Writing Without Walls

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

As many
know, smell is the sense most closely connected to memory. Smells are evocative
— a stranger can pass and draw our attention because she wears the same perfume
as Gramma, or we might feel disgusted smelling something associated with a
painful memory. We can capitalize on this smell-memory connection to generate
writing!

Materials:

·small
plastic soufflé cups with lids (the kind restaurants use to package sauces or
dressings)

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Some of the best classes for me as a K-12 student
were when my teachers told a story. Sometimes the story was meant to stand
alone, often emphasizing some point of a recent lesson; perhaps a reinforcement
of sorts. Other stories were told spur of the moment, usually at the teacher’s
discretion. However, there was a respected clique of “designated de-railers”
who were experts at getting the teachers off the subject.

Ruth Webb, my fourth-grade teacher, was an
“extreme” story-teller. The first day of the school year she shared with us in
great detail the trip that we’d be taking that year around the world. Somehow one of her sons had managed to move a
small wooden red fishing boat into one of the corners of the classroom. It was
in that boat where Mrs. Webb stood to prepare us for the upcoming trip that
would take us to at least 15 countries.

“Our boat, class,” she said, stretching her
hand out as if to look beyond the horizon, “is much, much larger than the boat
in which I’m standing. It’s a seaworthy
sailing ship with room for all of us and our provisions.”

To this day I can remember pulling into the port of Venice,
Italy,
in our imaginary vessel. We learned
about lire, spaghetti alla bologanese,
the museums, St. Mark’s Square, gondolas,
life along the Grand Canal, the turbulent history of the floating city, and its
relationship to the United
States. She told stories about common, ordinary
citizens such as Pietro Lombardi, the “Olive Man,” as well as more well-known
Venetians who banded together on the mudflats of the surrounding lagoons to
protect themselves from the Horrible Huns.

Ruth Webb made social studies come alive
with her stories, leaving us to believe that we’d actually been to those
places. The rich details she used, her
excitement in sharing her knowledge and discoveries, and her commitment to
having us “fish deep” helped us to learn in an engaging manner, which made
learning fun, easy, and all but guaranteed.

Betty Caldwell, my seventh-grade world
history teacher, was another superb story-teller. She made us take copious amounts of notes
from three separate blackboards. The drudgery! But the notes would become a
useful reference as she told stories that made us feel we were there, reliving
history.

“Do you know, students, the real story of Cleopatra?”

Silence
washed over us as we waited to find out what she had to say about one of the
most famous females in history. It was only then that the notes made sense.
They were the background of the characters that played such memorable roles in
the history of our world. Perhaps most
importantly the notes helped us to make connections to our own lives.

Unfortunately, the majority of my teachers didn't have the gift of story-telling. That didn't make them bad teachers; they
had their own methods. (OK, a few shouldn't have ever been issued a teaching
license). Looking back I can state with some certainty that I excelled in the
classes in which teachers engaged me with their background character scaffolds,
anecdotes, chronicles, and regular humorous asides.

As previously stated, a few of our
classmates were professionals at getting our teachers off the subject. Some teachers caved in, but others were aware
of the underlying motives and refused to deviate from their precious lesson
plans. “No time for that…we’ve got to cover these notes…”

Years later in my own high school science
classroom, I understood the value of story-telling and of letting students “get
me off the subject.” With a bit of practice and foresight, I could determine
where the side-tracking efforts were headed, and I could usually lead the
conversation back to the lesson. No one taught me how to do that; I simply
modeled what my story-telling teachers had done with me.

How writing tied in with story-telling…

I often used story-telling as a springboard
for writing. My first concern was whether the story (by student or teacher) was
unstructured or not. For example, if the story was instantaneous, told as a
personal anecdote, I often made a mental note or jotted a single word for
reference. Unprompted stories were generally more difficult to tie in with a
writing goal (i.e. - giving evidence to substantiate a main point) since it was
a chance occurrence.

An example is the story that Larry B. shared
about his motorcycle wreck in front of WestPointHigh Schoolone
morning.

“…I really wasn't speeding or
nothing, and suddenly a red truck…I think it was a Chevy… comes backing out
into the street…I had just looked over at the front door of the school for less
than a second and BAM! There was glass
and an awfully big crash of metal and glass shattering on the pavement…my body
stopped like really quick and I could see the back panel of the truck coming my
way. I swear, Mr. D., I was only going about 20 miles per hour. And it almost
caused my bike to be totaled…”

Since we had been studying Isaac Newton’s
work earlier in the week, Larry surprised us when he said, “Hey…when
my body and bike stopped so quickly, like on a dime, was that Newton’s laws or what? Which of those laws was that, Mr. D?’’’

What a grand moment for a
teacher! Don’t get me wrong. I was sorry that it took an accident for Larry to
have such an epiphany, and I was happy that no one got hurt, but hearing his
story had served as a vehicle, in part, for him to make a connection of a
scientific principle to his everyday life.

I knew that all three of Newton’s
Laws had played a part, but I felt a need for the students to make that discovery
for themselves. My mentor, Bob Tierney, an original member of the Bay Area
Writing Project at Berkeley,
had spoken to thousands of teachers around the world about the “exhilaration of
discovery.” His articles and books (How to
Write to Learn Science, NSTA, 2014)mentioned
its importance as well.

To begin the discovery process, I instructed
my students to write a journal entry about Larry’s accident, focusing on, and
being aware of instances where forces of motion had come into play. My accommodations included a longer period
for writing and large pictures of motorcycles, trains, and cars taped on the
walls near the front of the room, to help establish a tone. I didn’t know if or
to what degree video clips might prejudice their writing, so I didn’t use any.

Fifteen minutes later after the buzzer
sounded, most of the students volunteered to read their entries about Larry’s
crash. It quickly became evident that most of them were discovering, through
Larry’s story and their own reflective
writing, that all three of Newton’s
laws had played a part in Larry’s wreck that fateful Friday morning. Andre R.
wrote:

“…Larry is lucky! He could have been killed…I wonder what Mr.
Newton would have said about that?...Of course, Mr. Newton didn’t invent the
laws of nature, he just found a good way to describe their effects to the rest
of us…The first law says that things in motion stay in motion and things at
rest stay at rest. Well, everything was in motion, including Larry and his
motorbike…When he hit the truck, it stopped him like Larry said. Actually he
said that he saw the truck coming toward him!
The second law was something about momentum. Bigger things have more
force in motion, something like that…the truck had lots more of that than Larry
or his bike…and the third law is that all motion has an equal and opposite
reaction. I’m not sure how this ties in with Larry. Like I said, Larry is a
lucky dude. Keep your eyes on the road Larry!”

Although there were a few
misconceptions in their writing, we cleared these up with some “mild
conversation.”

More structure…

Often I used a more structured form of
combining story-telling with writing. For example, when we began a unit on
amphibians and reptiles in a biology class, I invited everyone to tell a
personal snake story. I hypothesized that everyone in the world who could walk
and talk had at least one snake story to share with anyone who’d listen.

To model a good snake story, I went first. I
used my facial expression, change in volume, and mannerisms to convey how
frightened I was the day I encountered a water moccasin floating on a piece of
lumber where some buddies and I were swimming. Everyone had had such
experiences and was willing to tell them to the class. When we were finished, I felt sorry for
snakes, who had received such a bad rap from us humans.

The readings were followed by our first
writing component, which was a short composition in which the students
recounted someone else’s snake story. I instructed them to interview that person
after writing 5-8 probing questions intended to draw out information about
their snake experience: Where did the
snake story take place – woods, backyard, lake, etc? What was the weather like
that day/night? Were there other animals in the vicinity?

After
interviewing their fellow classmates, we collaborated to prepare a large table
on chart paper that had headings on tops of the vertical columns: “Habitat”/ “Time
of Day” / “Description of Snake”/ etc.
That chart served as a basis for establishing a foundation for our studies on
reptiles. We referred back to the chart paper throughout the unit, adding additional
columns and data as we learned more information.

Good teachers, I believe, have been telling
stories for thousands of years. Aristotle, Socrates, Jesus, Dr. Seuss, and Ruth
Webb all used story-telling to convey main points of all sorts of lessons. With
a bit of effort and planning a mediocre lesson can become memorable for even less-sophisticated
students. Combining writing with the story-telling can make help your students
“go deeper” with the text and with their understanding of any discipline.

I used to puzzle over the Arabic language on labels of my family's Arabic pantry staples; for example, Ziyad Brothers brand of Tahini.

I knew the term Tex-Mex as an identity. The term Tex-Mex reflects a synthesis of Mexican and Texan traditions that result in a unique, vibrant culture.

And in Dallas, Texas, who can forget Big Tex at the State Fair, giving us a hearty, cowboy-friendly welcome? Howdy Ya'll!

These linguistic curios represent subcultural and behavioral norms.

If we think about it, most of us come from a code-switching environment. Our codes just reside in varying
distances from our mainstream American-English code. From my American mother and grandmother, I learned linguistic novelties that most likely hailed from the fields of Alabama where my great-grandmother was from. Active kids were "little fireanzies" (little and full of frenzy) and during moments of levity or chaos we often wondered "what in the sam hill is going on?!" I noticed my maternal grandmother and mother liked to add words in-between the syllables of other words; for example, "I guaran (insert favorite word here) tee you" as in "I guaranDARN tee you."

My father, a native Arabic
speaker, taught me basic Palestinian Arabic; enough to navigate my way through a
social event: Marhaba (hello), Ahlan (welcome), and biddac ishrab qahawa (would
you like to drink coffee)? He also liked to replace similar-sounding English words such as seat belt for suit belt. I still fondly say that I am buckling my suit belt when I get in my car.

Finally, I learned much about mainstream American English from my favorite television shows.

For that reason, I
think it is important to bring the concept of code-switching to the fore when
we begin a new semester in writing, reading or communications. In fact, any course that introduces new
vocabulary to students, such as when they are entering a specialized field,
could use a good discussion of code-switching to lay the ground work for what is to
come in the course. This way, students understand that they are not negating their home dialects, but expanding their reach into new socio-cultural areas through communication structures.

There are great
examples of this concept available in video and audio form on the internet.

For the incoming
freshman who has an interest in health care but is not familiar with health-care settings:

For students whose parents
are immigrants, an example that could mirror their own early years, and how
they have arrived at their Spanglish, Arabizi or other multilingual dialect.

Spanglish

Multi-lingual (Indonesian, English, French)

Arabizi

For African Americans and
all Americans who switch between regional and home dialects.

So as we begin a new
semester, let us remind ourselves and our students that our home dialects are not wrong; rather, they are essential aspects of who we are. Home dialects have intrinsic value that honors our cultural heritage. Learning new literacies, or codes, helps us navigate more social, academic, and professional spheres.

Appalachia

Academic English

African - American Culture

And let's not forget texting and emoticons as an emerging home dialect.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

This has been a busy year for me: undertaking National Board
certification, chairing my department, teaching a couple of new-to-me
courses. It may be my seventh year of
teaching, but—as always—I feel a little bit like a rookie trying to figure
things out. My family and friends
outside the profession say I’m a perfectionist, but I see myself as always
being in the midst of the very messy process of revision.

I’m always trying to get better:

· How can I get
my kids past the raw comprehension of Othello and into the

study of
Shakespeare’s language choices?

· How can I
move students from making inferences as they read to recognizing

patterns
throughout the entire text?

· How can I create student independence in the
thinking and writing process?

· Etc. Etc.
Etc.

Now, as I embark on my newest endeavor, leading the GWP’s
study group on Writing Craft, I find myself asking more and more questions:

· What books
should we study?

· With the push
towards argument and informational writing, where does

narrative writing fit
in?

· How can we
make room in our classrooms for narrative writing despite our

other time
constraints?

Narrative writing is something that English teachers have
always excelled in, but we need to be careful not to throw the baby out with
the bathwater. Over the past few months,
I’ve begun to realize that my baby might be long gone. The thing is, the rest of the community and
our administration haven’t even realized my baby is missing yet. I’m being contacted left and right about this
writing contest and that guest-poet, told second-hand of my administration’s
full commitment to our students taking advantage of these opportunities, and
left wondering how I am supposed to do it all.

As teachers, we deal in the currency of time. A mandatory assembly here and test-prep
lesson there are time spent that can never be recovered. Yes, perhaps it is an investment, but will we
ever see the return? And what about the
bills we have yet to pay: critical reading and analysis, argument writing,
informational writing, performance tasks?
Is there any time left to budget towards narrative writing?

Tough questions. I
think the answer is that we have to make time for narrative writing. So, how do we do this? And how do we convince the rest of the world
that class time working on narrative writing is time well spent? I hope these are questions our Writing Craft
Study Group will be able to answer.

Monday, October 28, 2013

November is National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for those who have never summoned the courage to try it...for those who are (bluckbluckbluck) chicken.

Yeah, courage. I'm trying to rile you up. Is it working?

What is NaNoWriMo, you ask? It's a network of writers all over the world who are hoping to tap out 50,000 in November. It's simple to begin. You create an account, and beginning November 1, you work on your novel. The site keeps track of your word count, along with updating little bar graphs that show your progress (or lack of, if the bar doesn't grow for a few days).

It's also simple to physically connect to other NaNo-ers. All over St. Louis and St. Charles are write-ins and get-togethers aimed at keeping you on track.

Unfortunately, it's also simple to crash and burn. I've had two years where I've wrapped my novel around a huge tree trunk, and ended up going up into the sky in a enormous fireball. Last year, I got to 42,000-something, which makes me a loser, but in my opinion, I was a winner. During that short month (which has a major landmine--Thanksgiving--but I'm sure your family won't mind if you drag a plate back to your lair so you can keep on writing while you ignore the family festivities and hey--if you are supposed to be responsible for cooking the holiday meal, just shriek repeatedly, "I am writing a book! Leave me alone!" They'll understand. And they'll be content with some cold hot dogs straight from the fridge), I made a great deal of progress on my story.

And this year I'm back. I'm hoping to finish my novel sometime before January, so I can start to seriously revise it in the spring.

The big surprise is once you begin writing, and once you banish your inner critic to another solar system for the next 30 days, the surrender leads to the story writing itself. Different plot twists rear their heads at surprising spots. You're not in control of the story any more. The story is rolling out in front of you on its own power. You no longer scrutinize every word as you write--"Just get the story down," becomes your mantra. And NaNo helps you develop discipline (if you don't already have an overabundance of the stuff). Writing every day becomes a habit.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

The Teachers as Writers group
of GWP has held writing marathons exploring various parts of the metro
area. At each event teachers use the time to write and be inspired by the
environment. At the end of the marathon, everyone gathers for lunch and
writings are shared on a volunteer basis. Additionally, all teachers
leave the event with a take-away activity they can use in their classes.

On Friday, June 14, a dozen GWP
members met at Picasso’s in downtown St. Charles for the spring marathon.
The temperature was in the low 80’s outside, the sky was clear, and there was a
general enthusiasm in the air as Angela Muse reviewed the procedures of the
activity. To help inspire creativity, she provided each person with a map
of historic Main Street and pointed out a few areas where people could sit and
draft. Jeff Church distributed an outline which included times.

Before everyone scattered to
write, Kim Gutchewsky shared her takeway: a triolet. She explained that a
triolet is an eight-lined poem with one line appearing three times and another
one appearing twice. Her handout broke down how to compose the poem line
by line and included three samples.

For the next two and a half
hours, the ideas and environment took center stage as the small crowd broke up
so people could explore and write. Atnoon, writers regrouped at Winery of the
Little Hills to share their writings over lunch. It’s worth noting more
than a few of the participants wrote triolets during the marathon. I’ve
included one of mine at the end of this post.

Caroline Hackemeyer shared a
handout outlining how place-based writing aligns with the Common Core. Her
handout was a linear flow chart on one side which broke down the steps a
teacher can use to facilitate a writing assignment. On the other side,
various components of the Common Core Standards (CCS) were discussed as well as
how writing creatively can help prepare students for the performance tasks in
the CCS.

Besides their personal
writings, full stomachs, the joy of sharing and hearing the works of other
teachers, and the classroom activities, everyone received a certificate of
attendance to include in their personal portfolios. As Angela Muse noted,
“This is professional development.”

In the fall, the Teachers as
Writers group will have another writing-centered event. Stay tuned.

Overenthusiastic
Tour Guide(a
triolet)

A
tourist at home showing off

The
sights and sounds of her hometown.

She
ignores the boredom cough,

A
tourist at home showing off.

“Here
was So-and-So’s water trough.”

Pleasant
smiles slowly turn upside-down.

A
tourist at home showing off

The
sights and sounds of her hometown.

by Linda Barro

GWP writing marathoner, Kathy Lewis writes by the Missouri River
in Frontier Park in St. Charles

Diane Scollay composes in Frontier Park

Caroline Hackmeyer, explains how creativity fits into
the Common Core to the group as Kathy Lewis and Donna Nixlisten

Lauren Flecke and Jeff Church look through one of the
take-aways from the marathon